Part 1 - Heads or Tails?
by Lancer1968
Summary: An Interlude Between the Brothers


Heads or Tails?

Summary: An Interlude Between the Brothers

(Part 1)

Any and All Disclaimers Applicable

One Hot Summer Day – Lancer Ranch

"Call it Scott!" Johnny shouted after he dug his double eagle gold piece out of his tight pants pocket. He flipped the coin high into the air, as Scott watched while the sun bounced of the surface as it spun back down towards the outstretched hand of Johnny.

"Tails," his brother called.

Johnny caught the coin and then duly flipped the coin on to the top of his other hand revealing the verdict, he showed his brother that it had landed on heads, "Better luck next time, brother," he cheekily grinned at Scott.

"Two out of three?" he asked with optimism as he stared at the task ahead of him.

"Nah, Scott, that job is all yours. I'm goin' ta town for a nice cold beer. But I'll think of ya and drink another beer just for ya." He mounted Barranca and with a wink at Scott, said "see ya," and rode off, sailing Barranca over the far corral fence.

Jelly stood by Scott to pat his shoulder, "Lost again. When are you going to stop betting that brother of yours?"

"I don't know," shrugged Scott.

"What don't you know?" Jelly asked.

"How he keeps winning," grumbled Scott. "I mean the odds have to be in my favor, once in awhile, don't they?"

Jelly shook his head, there were times when a man had to puzzle things out on his own, "You would think, so," he agreed. "Now look, if I wasn't so busy myself mending these harnesses, well, I would give you a hand. But you know your father, once he assigns a job; a man's gotta pull their own weight and get the job finished."

"I know, Jelly," said Scott, as he rolled up the sleeves of his brown work shirt and grabbed the shovel and scraper he needed to complete his task at hand, "Besides, this will build character, right?"

"Well, Scott, I don't know about character, I'll leave that to you and your fancy schooling. All I know, is a job is a job and that job needs to be done. It sure would have gone faster, if your smart-alecky brother was here to do his part."

"He won the toss, so it's my job now. That chicken coop will glisten like it never sparkled before, once I'm done with it," Scott said with determination.

# # #

Off Scott walked to behind the barn to start a task that would have been accomplished quicker with two pairs of hands. According to what Jelly had told they before his brother had made the wager, the steps were:

Shoveled and scraped all of the manure, dirt, shavings, cobwebs, and feathers out of the coop.

Rinsed with buckets of water.

Scraped & shoveled again.

Applied more elbow grease.

Rinsed again with buckets of water.

Allowed the coop to air dry.

Applied more elbow grease.

Rinsed again with more buckets of water.

Until he was finally able to add the fresh bedding.

Scott shoveled and scraped, hauled buckets of water to rinse, and repeated the entire process. As the sun rose higher in the sky, nearly noon according to his calculations of the sun's position, his shirt clung to his clammy skin, like a twenty dollar hooker to her customer, he imagined. He finally stripped it off as he stopped to take a breather, drink some water to replenish the water he was losing and wipe the sweat off his brow. Try and he might, he couldn't stop picturing his brother, sitting in one of the local watering holes, out of the heat, drinking cold beers and laughing at how much torture he had afflicted upon his brother.

At the conclusion of this stinking job, Scott was exhausted and in desperate need of a bath and fresh clothes. Foregoing a trip to the nearby, newly installed bath house, Scott stepped into the watering trough to cool off.

"Jelly, it's finished and I'm not moving from here," said Scott as he dunked himself under the water.

Jelly watched from the confines of the barn, while he continued to mumble to himself as he worked the leather harnesses back into shape. He was torn between telling Scott the truth and telling Mr. Johnny Lancer to knock it off.

# # #

Meanwhile, Johnny did sit in his favorite watering hole in Green River, drinking cold, refreshing beer with his pal; Sheriff Crawford telling him how he managed to outwit his Harvard educated brother, again.

"Let's see, I figured that's fifteen coin tosses to zero," Johnny chuckled.

"One day, bucko, Scott is gonna wise-up and catch ya in the act," grinned Val. "Then what are ya goin' ta do?"

"Run, I reckon," Johnny smiled. "But until he figures out about my two headed-coins, I'm sittin' pretty."

"Coins? Thought ya had only one?" Val asked.

"Nah, that's for amateurs. I had just the double-headed eagle in Yuma, but won the second coin off a bar bet in Sonoma. That one is a double-tailed eagle coin. I can't lose," he grinned.

"What was the bet?" Val asked.

"That I couldn't shoot the eyes out of the King of Spades from twenty-five paces," he grinned.

"That old trick? So, now you're palming two coins?" Val asked. "Now that's real sneaky, of ya, Johnny."

"I know," he admitted. "But it got me here instead of cleanin' the damn chicken coop and stinkin' ta high heaven."

"A toast ta the sweet smell of victory, instead," Val chuckled while he raised his glass. "All jokin' aside, Johnny, when your brother figures this out, I hope it's not in my town."

"Aww, Val, ya worry ta much," Johnny said. "Tell ya what, next coin toss, I'll let him win, I'll use only one coin."

"Ya do that, just not in Green River," cautioned Sheriff Crawford. "I don't want no brotherly battles ta break-up in my town. I'll throw both your rumps into a cell ta cool off."

"Promise," smiled Johnny. "'sides Scott ain't much for your coffee, don't suspect he'll want ta be stuck in your cell."

~Fin~

Sun Dancer

Note: The technique in making a double-headed coin involves two coins. One is hollowed out to the rim, the other coin has its rim and reverse removed. The second coin is inserted into the first so that the seam between the two is at the rim and virtually unnoticeable. There is absolutely no evidence of tampering on the edge.

The duple coins are often underweight since they are partially hollow inside. They also fail the "ring" test, balance a coin on your finger and tap it with a pencil; it should have a bell like quality. Coins that sound dead are not a continuous piece of metal so the sound stops at breaks between the joined pieces.


End file.
